"Some are," returned Haviland. "That bracelet, however, is not genuine, nor of great value." Then the Coroner, with delicate touch, removed the bits of broken tortoise-shell from the puffs of hair, and carefully laid them together on a small silver tray he appropriated from the dressing-table litter. "I think," said Inspector Brunt, in his grave, slow way, "that it will be wise to photograph the whole picture from several points of view before the autopsy is performed." Arrangements had been made for this, and Detective Hardy, a young man from Headquarters, stepped forward with his camera. As those who were asked to left the room, Pauline and Gray went out together, and met Anita just outside in the hall. "Oh, tell me, Gray! Who did it? What does it all mean?" she cried, and grasped him by the arm. "Tell her about it, Gray," said Pauline, and leaving the two together, she went swiftly along the hall to her own room. The alert eyes of the guarding policemen followed her, but also they followed the movements of everyone else, and if they had, as yet, any suspicions, no one knew of them. Meantime, the gruesome work of photography went on. Surely never was such a strange subject for the camera! Denuded of her jewels, but still robed in her gorgeous dressing-gown, and still leaning back in her luxurious arm-chair, with that strange smile of happy expectancy, Miss Lucy Carrington presented the same air of regal authority she had always worn in life. "There's no solution!" said Inspector Brunt, deeply thoughtful. "No one could or would crack a skull like that, but an experienced and professional burglar and housebreaker. And such a one could have but one motive, robbery, and the jewels were not stolen!" "Inside job," observed Scofield, briefly, his eyes on his work. "Maybe the burglar was frightened away at the critical moment." "No. Whatever frightened him would be known to some member of the family." "Maybe it is." "Hey? Have you a theory?" and the Coroner looked up suddenly.
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